the endless, glittering ocean
by daughter-of-october
Summary: [Characters: Gildarts Clive, Ur Milkovich] # Summary: In the end, he had loved trice.


**_the endless, glittering ocean_**

**Characters**: Gildarts Clive, Ur Milkovich

**Summary**: In the end, he had loved trice.

* * *

He was a terrible person and a liar and he knew it.

He always claimed that Cornelia had been the _One Love_ of his life, that the card mage had been the only woman he had ever loved from the bottom of his heart. But this was wrong as there had always been someone else, a floating presence in his life, someone he had admired a lot and someone he had lost before he had realised how much she had meant to him.

He still thought of Cornelia because she had been his wife, the woman he had loved and admired – because she had been the one he had wanted to spend his life with. (Missions and obligations to the guild had ruined this idea.) Thinking of her was easier now that he knew that Cana was his daughter and that he had not left her completely alone. It was also relatively easy to accept her death after a few years and move on as she had died from an illness, something he had never had a chance of protecting her from.

And while there was Cornelia, there was also someone else, someone he had not remembered in a long time – mostly because her story was a bittersweet tragedy, a story that had never been meant to end well. He could smile and laugh with others for Cornelia's sake because she would never have wanted for him to distance himself from the rest of the world. She was no pain that hid somewhere in his chest, ready to strike at the smallest sign of weakness.

Ur was a different story.

The way she had left, the way she had given up her own life had been so typical for her. She had always been selfless, always ready to sacrifice her own happiness. Her decision to use Iced Shell was something Gildarts did not understand for the longest time because why had she done this when there had been so much left to life for?

He was clumsy with words but for her sake, he had tried to write down his thoughts before they could cause him another headache. A letter for a dead woman. A letter that tried to express what he could not say. He wanted to ask her why she had done this, why she had not left the demon to someone else when she had known that her magic was too weak to kill Deliora.

The question became his obsession.

_Why? Why have you died like that? Why did you sneak out of my life? Why did you think that your life wasn't worth to be saved as well, Ur?_

He had many questions and no answers, just like usual.

The first letter got more and more additions as he wrote about his adventures, as he wrote about how much he would have liked to have her at his side as he discovered new villages in the Northern Areas of the continent. If things had happened differently, if she had lived, she would have written him as well and sometimes when he was alone, he imagined her replies, dry and always straight to the point as she had never been one to circle around a topic for a long time because she had always addressed everything directly.

He imagined her tales about how she had become a Wizard Saint, about how she had finally finished her expedition of the neighbouring countries of Fiore.

Then, a miracle happened.

She came back, looking just the way she had the last time he had seen her with a new expression of wisdom in her terrifying young eyes, a wisdom he envied her for. She was back with her smiles, with her glares – both never failed to let his heart skip a beat for entirely different reasons. She was back and this felt strange because he had just gotten used to the hole in his chest, to the hole she used to fill once upon a time.

Some questions were more interesting now that she might actually answer them.

Whether she had missed him as well … whether she had thought about him as much as he had thought about her in the last years … and whether she had ever forgiven him for being the worst friend anyone could have.

But before he could ask for the answers to the questions he had wondered about for years, she once more disappeared on him to look for her daughter. This was a sting because just as before, he would never been on top of her list but always second or third place. He was a father himself, he understand what it was like not to know whether the daughter was fine or not but still.

He had expected a little more than an acknowledging nod, the comment _'Hell, you look old'_ and tears and hugs for Gray and Lyon who had not known Ur for as long as he had known her.

He now wondered under which sky she was travelling, lost and hurt because no matter what her daughter had done, this fate was not fair on Ultear. He guessed that she might have reached the Great Plains were the sun never disappeared on summer evenings. If the sky above her reached far enough, if they were still walking under the same sky, the distance and the sea between them had not such the meaning of complete separation anymore.

He missed her. He missed her more than he missed Cornelia because she was still there and he might have another chance, a chance to make things alright.

Then, she finally returned from her journey after eight months, eight months he had waited because he needed to hear some answers from her. He was glad as she finally sat down next to him in the guildhall and he offered her a beer before he started to ask. He asked about her family as this was the safest ground to walk on for now. He acknowledged that she had found Ultear, that her daughter had been relatively fine and that she was recovering from the spell, whatever this meant.

In the end, he realised that it was only small talk because in order to address the truly important topics, they would have to lower their guards and this was something they had always been equally bad at. He still tried, mentioned the easier times when they had sat in shady bars, drinking and laughing the night away. This had been years ago, back when Ivan had been his friend, when they had been younger than Cana was now.

He had missed the way her red clothes clashed with her pale skin. He had missed her mischievous smile because this was what he had known for so long. Those were the things that always felt right and comfortable. He missed the way she had cursed under her breath when he had gotten injured badly so many years ago, the day when he had seen her cry for the first and last time. Maybe it was wishful thinking that they could ever be friends like this again – probably it was mindless dreaming just like his fading hope that Ivan might see the errors of his ways.

So the only thing he could do was to swallow his pride and to apologise to her because he had failed her severely – the same way he had failed Cornelia as well. He had put his obligations towards the guild before his friends. And so he walked up to her and finally told her how sorry he was for the night of the argument, the night she had ran after Ivan while Cornelia had cried.

This had been the day the eternal summer of their friendship had turned into fall and later on – with the women's death – into winter. He remembered the last summer they had had, the summer when everything had been just fine, when Ivan had awkwardly started to court his later wife. When he closed his eyes, he saw those beautiful times once more.

He watched Cornelia and Ur laughing in the train that had brought them to the resort. He watched Ivan and Cornelia arguing about the most random things and slowly, he realised that he indeed loved Ur even though he was scared of admitting this.

People he loved often suffered a terrible fate after all but when he sat at the bar and watched how easy it seemed for Cana to interact with Ur while his daughter gently pushed Juvia into asking the master of ice make magic about childhood stories of Gray, he wondered whether he was truly bad news for those he loved or whether he had exaggerating too much.

Ur was a strong woman, someone who could handle more than most men. She had been frequently dealt the worst cards fate had had to offer but she had played the game full of confidence and in a way, she had won.

So sometimes, he wondered that if he loved again, he would do it right.


End file.
